Love Song
by Acepilot6
Summary: Ever since she got married, it's been a thousand times harder to come to these things with a smile on my face... PK, repost with lyrics removed. Please review!
1. Plain Gold Ring

**Alright. My spurt of reposts is finally winding down. There are a few ones that are still missing, but I probably won't be putting them back up (Nights of Indigestion, It's A Matter of Privacy and Domesticity were stripped for being in "script format"). This was the second AGU/RR fic that I ever wrote, after "Road Trip". This is the alternative ending that was released on Valentine's Day, not the original. And the lyrics are, of course, gone.**

**Love Song**  
Acepilot

Disclaimer - The characters are property of Klasky Csupo Animation.

----

Ever since she got married, it's been a thousand times harder to come to these things with a smile on my face.

It's all my fault - I had years to speak up. Endless damn years. I could have said something to her, told her how I felt. Of course, she had to be the only person around whom my legendary confidence - so strong I was often thought to be smarmy, can you believe it - faltered.

So she met a guy.

And she fell in love.

And the rest is history.

What hurts most, of course, is the knowledge that I probably could have had her if I wanted her. It was all there. She flirted with me as much as I did with her. But I waited too long to make a move, and she fell from my grasp and into someone else's arms.

Mistake? You bet.

And so I pretend to laugh at Tommy's joke, but I'm watching her across the yard as she talks in her impossibly vibrant manner with Lil. And I can't find anything funny at all.

The dying afternoon sunlight glints off the rings on her finger, and I feel tears prick at my eyes. But I blink them away quickly. I can't afford to let emotions loose. Not now.

"Why'd you come in here?"

I look up from my newfound spot on the Pickles' couch to see - just my luck - her.

Freedom had seemed so close.

I shrugged. "Just wanted to get away from all the people for a minute."

I'd like to hope I was giving off very negative body language. Either I wasn't, or she was ignoring me.

She sat down on the chair opposite me. "You owe me an explanation."

I raise my eyebrows. "Oh yeah? What do I have to explain?"

"Why we never talk."

I try to look quizzical. "We don't talk?" I've never been a good liar, and I know it.

So I'm hardly surprised that she sees right through me. "No, we don't."

I shrug. "Distance?"

"We live two blocks apart."

"I never said long distance."

"For once in your life take something seriously Phil!" she practically yelled, and I jumped back a touch. She didn't yell much, and it was pretty scary when it happened.

"I am taking it seriously," I assured her, but only halfheartedly.

"No, you're making it into a joke. Like you always do."

"What do you expect me to do!"

"Be real, Phil! This is our friendship we're talking about! Do you remember us being friends?"

"Vaguely."

"See! Joke!"

"No!" I'm sick of it now, I'm not holding back any more. "No, I'm not joking. Because Kim, yeah, we were friends. But we haven't been for a long, long time. We came to close to something else. We danced around the whole thing for years, but we weren't friends then. It was you and me, and it was something else. But then I waited too long and I couldn't bear it. So yeah, I have memories of being friends. But that's all they are. We aren't friends anymore, Kimmi."

And the shocked look I see in her eyes makes me regret every word.

"Wow." Her previous tone is gone, replaced by a barely audible whisper.

"Sorry," I mutter, for once serious, for once honest. I should have just kept my mouth shut. After all, doing that's what got me into this mess, but it could have just as easily gotten me out of it.

"I...I thought...when you didn't make a move - "

"Yeah, well, I was an idiot."

She looks up into my eyes, and it's only then that I realise I'm standing. "You...you...l..."

"Loved you."

"You don't anymore?"

I slump back down into the couch, the energy seeming to have drained from my body. "I don't know what I'm doing  
anymore."

"I'm sorry."

I look away from her, suddenly unable to bear the sight of her eyes welling with tears, blurring the confused look on her face. Maybe tears are getting the better of me, as well. "It's not your fault, don't be sorry."

It's several minutes before I feel a hand on my shoulder turn me around. But after that I lost all sense of time.

She's invading all my senses. I've fantasised so many times about kissing her, and most of the time they were passionate but plundering - brutal and invasive, almost. But this is a completely different type of passion, one I never imagined possible. This is soft, sensual, loving. Slow, and beautiful. I slide a hand into her long black hair and run my fingers through it, and her hand seems to snake around and settle on my back. I pull her down onto the couch with me, and she doesn't resist, and everything is just perfect. It's like the last two years - her engagement, her marriage - never happened, and this is where we were always meant to be.

She raises her other hand to cup my cheek, and I feel something...wrong. A spot of cold in the otherwise beautiful warmth of her body.

I open my eyes to look at it.

Her wedding ring.

I push her off me, slowly, painfully. It actually physically hurts.

"What..." she begins, but then her eyes follow mine, and she realises what's happened.

"Yeah," is all I can muster, and I pick up her wrist, raise her hand to my lips, and kiss her palm, the back of her hand.  
She's genuinely crying now and I realise that I am as well, but I'm not ashamed or surprised. "I can't. You can't. You shouldn't."

She shook her head, slowly and regretfully, her gaze dropping to her feet, seemingly ashamed. "I'm so sorry, Phil."

"Don't be," I told her. "It was my fault."

"I kissed you!" she sobbed out.

I shake my head, kissing the palm of her hand one last time, before lowering it into her lap. "It's my fault that we had this discussion. I could have made a move years ago, but I left it too long. And I have no right to make one now. I had no right to tell you about my feelings. Not after this long. You're married."

She looks up at me. "For the first time in my married life, I wish I wasn't." She holds up her hand. "I wish this ring wasn't here."

I nod. "So do I. But it is."

She nods back, averting her gaze again. "It is."

And there doesn't seem to be anything to say, so I stand, kiss her forehead, and take a deep breath.

I look out into the backyard, and see everyone mingling, socialising, just like old times. Having fun, celebrating.

And I realise that I don't belong here. Not right now.

So I go to the front door, grab my coat off the hook, and walk out. I don't look back, I can't look back, because I'll see her, sitting there on the couch, tears in her eyes.

But as long as she's married - as long as that ring's on her finger - then that road will only ever cause pain.

----


	2. Interlude

**Interlude**  
Acepilot

----  
I don't have to look up to know its her that's walked in. I just know it.

"Won't they be missing you at the party?" I ask, but it's only half-hearted.

"I could say the same thing about you." The tears she was crying only minutes ago still taint her beautiful voice, and I know not to look up.

I won't be able to control myself if I do.

I've never been able to resist her when she cries.

"Yeah, well." Seems to be the only thing to say, really.

"I think I fell in love with you a long time ago, Phil."

I can't help but smile at that. "I fell in love with you, too. But it's all different now, it's too late."

"What if I said that I'd leave him? I'd leave him to be with you?"

For an instant, I have this picture perfect vision - her and me, sitting around in years to come, kids playing at our feet, sharing memories and joy, highs and lows, praise and perils.

"No."

She looks puzzled.

"What if I said no? Would you stay with him?"

She stares at me. "Uh -"

"Do you love me enough to admit that you shouldn't be married to him, Kim? Do you love me so much that you won't settle for someone else?"

"I..." and for the second time tonight, she looks down, seemingly ashamed or something similar. "I don't know."

I nod. "Then no." I sigh. "Look, I know this must be huge for you. God knows it's huge for me - this has all happened so quickly. But if you can't decide yet, then I don't want you making promises you can't keep."

Her eyes are welling up again. "Phil, I want you - I need you."

I struggle to keep my face as emotionless as possible, the tracks of the tears that I've already cried this evening say everything anyway. "But do you love me?"

She doesn't answer.

"If you ever come to your decision - and I don't expect you too - then I'll be waiting." I sigh, and the pain really starts to eat away at me.

"But now I think you need to go."

And for once, she just goes, and I collapse against the front door. I've done the right thing, but it just feels so wrong.

----


	3. Come Sail Your Ships Around Me

**Love Song – Part 2**  
Acepilot

AN – The ending to this chapter was rewritten from the original version. I hope this fic still works without the lyrics.

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Ever since she got divorced, it's been a thousand times harder to come to these things with a smile on my face.

Almost a year ago, I was in pain because she was married, and now I'm overcome with guilt, due to the knowledge that, on some level, I was responsible for her marriage falling apart.

Call me egotistical if you like.

I haven't really spoken to her since that night - which has got to be some kind of record for the two of us, as we used to be practically inseperable, but as I told her then, that changed a long time ago.

I love her. I think she still loves me. But how do you proceed from here?

I remember the day that Tommy told me she'd left her husband. It was probably the oddest day of my life. I'd contemplated going to her parents place, where she was sure to have holed up, endlessly. When Lil dropped by to visit and found me standing on the other side of the front door with my hand on the doorknob but not doing anything, I think she'd thought I'd cracked.

But you can't go up to someone and say "Hey, wanna go out with me?" on the day they get seperated from their spouse, even if you're pretty confident you're the reason why.

And so I've waited. And it's been nine months and fourteen days. Not that I'm counting.

And I'm still waiting.

I wonder if she is as well.

It's an eerie sense of deja'-vu, actually. I'm listening to Tommy tell a joke (I think it might even be the same one as last time), but I'm watching her chat with Lil and Angelica, and the afternoon sunlight glints off her wedding ring, still in place on her finger, despite the time apart from her husband.

Maybe I'm chasing after a long-lost hope here.

My thought process is derailed as Stu's stereo comes to life on a far-too-excessive volume level. I jump and look treacherously at the speaker I'm standing next to, earning a stifled chuckle from Dil. I resist the temptation to smack him across the head.

I laugh half-heartedly as Tommy resumes and finishes his joke, forcing my gaze not to settle itself on her again.  
It's surprisingly difficult.

I wander inside to where the drinks are buried under some three and a half kilos of ice in the fridge, and rummage briefly through it looking for something non-alcoholic. I think getting drunk at this party would be nice, but probably something I'd later regret.

I finally emerge victorious with a can of some generic cola that Chuckie's been using as a mixer, with my hand a touch frozen but otherwise no worse for wear. I crack it open and take a quick swig, letting the sugar-ridden drink take the edge off the late-summer heat. As I turn around, I swipe the can across my forehead -

And as I complete my turn, I damn near drop the can.

Because she's standing there, backlit by the sunset, a soft smile on her face, making a dark-blue t-shirt and cargo pants look like the most attractive clothing ever invented.

"Hi," I manage, but barely.

"Hi." And god, I nearly rush across the kitchen right then, drawn to her breathy whisper like a moth to a flame.  
I hold back. Again, barely.

"How are you?" What kind of quesiton is that?

"I'm...I'm alright, on the whole." She takes a deep breath. "You?"

I nod. "Yeah, I'm okay."

This is why I haven't gone to talk to her since her seperation. What is there to say?

"What have you been up to?"

Alright, this is getting painful. Small talk isn't working. Her last-ditch effort proves it. I think she knows it.  
In response, I simply shake my head, and she seems to understand.

I walk into the lounge and stare out at the partiers in the backyard. Stu's finally gotten the stereo under control, it would appear, and there's dancing going on. Tommy and Lil are holding each other close, laughing at some private moment. Chucky and Angelica are making a brave attempt to move to the music, but the result is - as with all their appearances in public - more humorous than it is romantic. I have to stifle a laugh as they struggle to decide who should be leading. Stu and Didi are off in their own little world.

I feel Kimmi's hand on my shoulder and I realise that the last time that happened, I regretted turning around.  
I risked it.

She was standing oh so close, and the instant I turned around my eyes seemed to meet hers inexplicably. The temptation to lean in and kiss her was so strong, and I realised I was a bare instant away from doing just that.  
And as a new song starts up, she pulls me even closer, and I instinctively take her in my arms.

We start swaying to the music, and I have a vague memory of a dance at high school - Tommy was going out with Lil by then, and I'd offered to take Kimmi - platonically, of course. I was planning on telling her how I felt about her that night, but of course, I chickened out. My memory may be a little hazy, but I'm pretty sure that this was the same song.

And I wonder if she's realized it.

We dance in silence, but her eyes have met mine and I can't seem to bring myself to look away. I want to say something - I want to say so many things - but the look of love and longing in her eyes is stopping me, for some reason, when I'd have thought I'd find it encouraging.

Again, I find myself unable to make the first move, and resign myself to dancing on in silence, letting another opportunity slip through my fingers.

"I have something for you," she whispers, the breath flowing over my face like the most beautiful breeze I've ever experienced.

That was probably the last thing I ever expected her to say at this point.

"You do?" seems to be all there is to say.

She pulls away from me for a bare instant and slips her hand into her pocket.

"Here."

She presses something into my palm, closing my hand around it with her own.

It's warm - she must have been holding it in her hand for a while or something - and solid.

I look in her eyes for a moment before opening my fist and looking down.

Her wedding ring stares back at me.

My eyes shoot back to hers.

"I love you," she whispers.

I place the ring on the living room table, cupping her cheeks in my hands. I've been waiting for this for far too long, I'm not about to wait any longer if I can avoid it.

I press my lips to hers, and it's as if the last nine months of waiting didn't happen, like the last three years were a mere hallucination. I slide my tongue over her lips, begging entry, which I'm granted. I feel arms snake up around my neck as my tongue duels hers, and I drop my hands from her face so I can pull her closer. I tug at the band holding her hair in a ponytail, and it comes loose, allowing me to run my fingers through it.

I finally pull back and look at her, simply staring in admiration.

"I love you," I return at last.

"Still?" She asks.

"Are you surprised?" I ask, raising an eyebrow.

She shakes her head slowly. "Sort of. But mostly I'm grateful."

I kiss her softly on the forehead. "I fell for you long ago. I don't think I could have stopped loving you if I wanted to."

And so we stand there, swaying gently to a love song, and I feel like things have never been better. I never want to let go of this beautiful angel. I look out the windows at the couples dancing on the lawn, and for once I don't feel envious.

I feel complete.

"Let's go outside," I suggest.

She's watching them as well. "That sounds good," she agrees. And as I reluctantly let go of her, I grasp for her hand the instant she leaves my embrace. And as we step out the door to face our family and friends, I can't wipe this stupid grin off my face.----

please review! I would be very appreciative.


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